


"I love the colour Blue"

by Sheiru



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Betaed, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Rating May Change, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, but its colour vision instead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29961927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheiru/pseuds/Sheiru
Summary: When he looked into the eyes of the other boy, his world exploded into colours he never could have imagined in his wildest dreams.---Only one in 7,77 billion can grant you the gift of colour vision and while some may never experience relieve from their world constructed by greyscales others may find themselves overwhelmed by infinite possibilities. Although still "blind" - Reki already knows his favourite colour: Blue.Or:On New Year's Eve, 5 year old Reki meets his Soulmate - only to lose him a minute later.12 years later fate lets them meet again - they still have to realize it yet.Relationship-chaos ensues.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 23
Kudos: 146





	1. The Colour of Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta!

When he looked into the eyes of the other boy, his world exploded into colours he never could have imagined in his wildest dreams.

~ ~ ~

„This is your final boarding call for the flight 045 to Canada, Banff!”  
The distorted announcers voice echoed through the hall of the airport, almost drowning in the noise of the masses. People were walking to their gates, putting their luggage away or checking in. It was night-time, but an airport never was empty nor quiet.

A sky-blue cruiser clutched under one arm and his free hand secure in his mothers, Reki was excited. He did not understand a word the voice was saying – it was the numbers that told him their flight would soon start. His father had taught him counting in English. Whenever dad was home, he taught his son something in English, something Reki loved to brag to his friends.

It had been his mother who told him the number of their flight – thus he recognized it every time it was announced over the big speakers in the hall. Each time he got more jittery. With the final announcement, the family of three moved to their designated gate to board their plane. Reki stumbled along, his attention jumping from the people they passed, to his mother whose hand he held tightly, to the gate they were approaching.

Holidays in Canada were only possible due to his grandparents. The Kyan-family was young – two recently married parents and their five-year-old didn’t really have a lot of money to spend on anything other than clothing, rent and food. But Rekis’ grandparents from his fathers’ side gifted the young couple a holiday in Canada for their wedding – a grand gesture for the three of them.

Why they were going on holiday in Canada over New Year’s Eve or how they could even afford it were all things, Reki could not care less about. What was important for him was that he could bring his cruiser with him and that he could see snow.   
For him, snow was something like a prince or a dragon – only known through stories his parents told him before he went to sleep. It never snowed in Okinawa and that was the reason he was so excited to see it.

Reki wondered what colour snow would have.

His mother always told him the colour of things whenever he asked for it, but someone who has tried to explain what colour grass had to a blind person would know how fast you reached the limits of descriptive language when you could not use colours.

It wasn’t an anomaly to be colour-blind. Every person on the planet had been colour-blind at some point in their life – up until they met their Soulmates eyes. Then their world would suddenly become colourful and vibrant. Reki knew about the concept of Soulmates, but in his age, there were so many more important things to think about than a random stranger who fate apparently destined to be your significant other.

Most children and teenagers couldn’t see colours. Therefore, most clothing brands for the youth created clothing in a greyscale. Smaller kids often were put in coloured clothing by their parents or caretakers. Rekis’ Mother tried to dress her son in colourful clothing – a key-part was the dark blue headband Reki proudly wore every day. So much, that he owned the same headband three times, in case one needed to be washed.

  
Each time he put it on, and his mum complimented the blue colour in contrast with his fiery hair, he would say: “Blue is my favourite colour!” despite the fact he could not imagine what it really looked like. If he was asked about it, his answer always stayed the same: “Blue just feels right!”.

Reki knew that snow was supposedly “white”. White, like the planes who landed and took off on the wide tar lanes in the airport. White, like the dress his mother wore to her wedding with his father in the early spring under cherry blossom trees. White like his teeth he could see in his reflection of the window when he grinned widely. He pressed his little face against the cold pane next to his seat, watching how the plane started to move and the white stripes on the tarred surface outside became one the faster the wheels on the huge machine went.

White were also the clouds the plane passed as it gained altitude rather quickly. Reki watched captivated how the lights of the airport and the city became smaller and smaller, until the clouds hid them. He looked at the endless ocean of white fluff that reflected some of the bright moonlight.

  
A rustling sound pulled his attention back into the plane. His mum gripped onto a paper bag, her face as pale as the clouds he just looked at. “Mum? “, his voice was a mixture of curiosity and worry. “It’s alright. She is just a little bit sick “, his fathers’ words were reassuring. He could see the mans’ hand on his mothers’ back – calming and soothing. Knowing everything would be alright, Reki sat back and looked out of the window again, with his mind wandering through the foreign land beyond the windows glass.

~ ~ ~

The most time of the seventeen-hour long flight he spent sleeping. When the sun rose and he woke, he either played games on his fathers’ tablet, watched downloaded skateboarding videos, or talked about skateboarding to his parents. He also napped occasionally when he was really bored, but the flight was way too exciting to sleep through.

He continued to talk about skating when the plane landed in Banff, the place where they would spend their two weeks holiday. And he continued when they went to get their luggage. He didn’t stop when they greeted the driver that would bring them to the holiday home that was booked for them. The tall man spoke a language Reki did not understand. It sounded like the one the airport voice talked in – so probably English, but he was not sure.

The man drove a light grey car – maybe it was yellow or green. He loaded the luggage into the big trunk and commented on Reki’s cruiser with a kind smile as the boy hugged it closer to his chest. His father sat him in a child seat on the back seat of the car and buckled him up, the cruiser found its way to the foot well.

Reki’s father was also the one who took care of all the communication, as he was the only one in the family who understood English and spoke it fluently due to his work overseas in the USA. He seated himself on the passenger seat and started to chat with the driver. His wife sat next to Reki and talked to him about the holiday home they were headed to.

There would be a village of log cabins – all of them managed by a tourist-resort team. And in one of those log-cabins they would stay. The drive to the village was uneventful. Streets full of people passed them, like they often did when the small family drove with their own tiny car to the beach, back in Okinawa. Reki looked out the window again and for the first time since they had landed in Canada, he was quiet.  
Awestruck he stared at the masses of snow piling themselves at the edges of the roads and toning all roofs in the same white. Some of them looked muddy and dirty, but he paid no mind to it – the fact that there was so much snow it was able to pile captivated him.

The driver was skilled as he maneuvered the car up the narrow mountain road, which was almost completely covered in snow. He stopped in front of a dark log-cabin. Around were other cabins, but they did not lack privacy. Each had their own little front yard and a place for a car. The car of their holiday home was dark and looked like an off-road vehicle of some sort, something one needed in times of snow-masses and ice.

The Snow crunched underneath Rekis’ feet as he jumped out of the taxi. He still wore his sneakers that he put on for the flight, but without his clothing in mind he ran to the next pile of snow and threw himself face first in the cold white mass. With a joyful squeal he played in the snow, grinning from ear to ear whilst his parents unloaded the luggage to their cabin. The cruiser was removed from the foot well and placed with the rest of Rekis’ bags, but it was foreseeable Reki would not skateboard with this amount of snow.

Reki was amazed. He was able to form snow figurines and snowballs, his tiny feet left footprints wherever he went, and he could feel how the snow melted in his hands, leaving them red and sensitive to the cold.   
His father called to him and when he turned to face him, Reki noticed the driver was long gone. Only the car tracks in the snow were left. His attention shifted to his father, then he grinned widely, and ran to the cabin as his parents waited for him in the doorway.

His mother ruffled his red fluffy hair, snowflakes fluttering down. “Reki, are you hungry? “, she asked and didn’t leave him time to answer. She turned around and followed him into the cabin as soon as both took of their shoes in the entry way. Reki noticed his damp socks, but he paid them little mind. He followed his mother, his father roaming somewhere in the kitchen and looked around in their holiday home.

It was cosy – a big dark grey sofa was placed in front of a fireplace, wood neatly stacked next to it. In the back there was a big bed, probably the one where his parents would sleep. The kitchen was separated by a half-wall and mostly, like the rest of the furniture, made of dark wood. It felt homey.

There was a door that led to a separate room. Reki opened the door and the first thing he noticed was the bunkbed. He squealed and climbed to the top bed. The mattress felt soft, and he slowly felt the tiredness of his limbs from the flight and the playing creeping into him.   
Still, the day could not have gone any better. Flying, snow and a bunkbed – what more could this holiday possibly bring?

„Reki, Dinner is ready! “, his mum called out from the kitchen. He could hear the tiredness in her voice and was sure they would go to bed after dinner, even though he still wanted to look around and get to know the place. He went to the kitchen and sat at the table, the chair a little too big for him. They talked while they ate: about the flight, the cabin, their expectations and plans for the coming days. The first day of their holiday drew to an end, New Year’s Eve would be the following day and there would be a celebration in the village with the other tourists that the family wanted to join.

But before they would attend the celebration, they planned on doing some winter sports. Mr. Kyan was eager to go skiing, his son wanted to snowboard. Reki was obsessed with the idea of snowboarding – he wondered if it would be like skating on snow. With the thought in mind that he could snowboard the next day, Reki was not to opposed to the idea of going to bed.

Outside, the sun had already set. The remnants of sunlight still lingered on the clouds, but they would fade quickly. Reki took a bath and discarded his wet clothing for his comfy PJs, then he brushed his teeth and climbed to the top of the bunkbed. His father read him a bedtime story.   
Rekis’ eyes felt heavy, it didn’t take long for the boy to fall asleep.

~ ~ ~

Reki was an enthusiastic child. Jetlag didn’t apply to him – unlike his parents who looked still tired the next day.

Filled with anticipation with his tiny feet strapped onto a small snowboard he stood amongst some other kids that listened to the snowboard-instructor. His mum watched him from the side with mixed emotions. She was worried her son would get hurt in the process of learning, but she was also happy for him. She smiled as Reki waved at her, his tiny hands in big gloves.   
He wore his headband underneath his woolly hat and his ski goggles – both too big for his head.

The instructor explained the basics of snowboarding to the children, but Rekis’ attention laid elsewhere – he was watching the other people on the mountain. Adults who did ski jumping and snowboarding on the various ramps and tracks.

They were fast and did things Reki dreamed of doing on his own. He watched a man on a snowboard doing a trick that looked complicated. A small figure followed him and jumped off the ramp as well. Though he did not fly as high as the adult and did not do a complicated trick, Reki was amazed.   
The boy had hair as bright as snow. The man applauded the little boy with a big smile on his face, the boy mirrored the smile shily.

  
He seemed to be the same age as Reki, and yet the boy was a skilled snowboarder – almost flying weightlessly through the air. With new motivation Reki started to listen again to the instructor who told them to start trying to snowboard.

It wasn’t as easy as Reki thought it would be. The board was heavy, and he was a little bit scared to hurt himself with his feet strapped immobilized on a board. But arriving safely without falling at the bottom of the mountain still was an achievement for him. He thought about the boy with the snow-white hair and was a little bit jealous that he himself would need more than an hour of instruction to do the same jumps he saw the other doing. But in the end, he had fun.

After the winter sports they ate in the restaurant at the ski site. Some traditional Canadian food Reki couldn’t name. All he knew was that it was tasty, and that’s what mattered. Later they returned to the village to prepare themselves for the party.

Reki looked forward to it. New Year’s Eve meant that he was allowed to drink Cola and stay up late. He loved the sound and look of fireworks even though he knew everything would look better in colour. It was something he couldn’t imagine and that’s why it was so intriguing to him.

Like every year his father brought sparklers they would light together. Holding a tiny firework in his hands always filled him with joy. His mother would watch them bond over the sparklers and smile to herself.

But before they would join the celebration around 11 PM they played some board games together. Most of them were easy to understand so Reki could join in. If they were more complicated, then he would form a team with one of his parents against the other one.   
After they had dinner the family went outside. A campfire was in the middle of the yard, adults stood around with warm beverages in their hands, talking to each other. Children were playing around.

Reki clung to his fathers’ leg, suddenly less confident. At home he got along with other kids greatly. He always had an idea what to play and how to include everyone – he loved the attention and the fun, but away from home he didn’t know how to approach other kids. He wasn’t able to understand them, and they could not understand him.

Suddenly, his dad ruffled his hair. „Come on, go play “, he said reassuringly. He smiled down at his son who looked at him with big amber eyes. As if he could read his sons’ mind, he added: “sometimes you don’t have to understand each other to know what the other means and have fun together.” Reki tilted his head, overthinking his father’s words. It made sense – he could always tell how people felt even without talking to them. This case wasn’t that different. After some thinking he decided he would go to the other kids.   
With a shy smile he approached the group of kids.

One of the children, a girl with dark hair and bright eyes, waved at him and talked to him in a language he didn’t understand. It must have shown on his face because she started to make gestures with her hands and limbs. It took a while until he understood what she wanted to say – she was asking him to join the game of catch. With a grin and a nod, he agreed to join.

His father was proven right: Reki hat fun. He played the whole remaining evening with the other kids, up until it almost was midnight. Most of them went back to their parents for the countdown and to watch the fireworks with them. Reki was anticipating the firework – only the big campfire and the crescent moon lit the yard. He was sure the bright patterns on the clear night sky would look stunning.

He had his eyes on the sky as he felt a light touch on his arm. It was almost unnoticeable due to his thick winter coat. “Are you from Japan? “, a thin voice in broken Japanese asked him. „I am! And you? “, Reki turned with a smile but suddenly stilled.

When he looked into the eyes of the other boy with the snow-white hair, his world exploded into colours he never could have imagined in his wildest dreams.

The firework, loud in the sky, was mirrored in an ocean of blue - Reki could not divert his eyes.


	2. The Color of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Langas' POV!  
> //  
> TW: death of a loved-one

Langa never thought his last day of Christmas vacation would end up in a sea of colors. He tried to talk, but every grasp he had on the few Japanese phrases he learned from his mother was lost in the wonder he experienced in that moment.  
“What’s your name?”, he asked in English, raising his voice which was almost drowned out by the big firework. The boy stuttered; He didn’t understand him.

It frustrated him. “I’m Langa!”, he yelled over a big colorful explosion on the night sky. The boy was still staring at him. If his eyes weren’t so pretty, he would be a little bit creeped out. He removed his gloves and held his pinkie in front of the boy’s face. Finally, he no longer stared in Langas’ eyes, but on the pinkie. Slowly he took off his own gloves and linked their pinkies together.

It was a mutual understanding without words: They would meet again. But before Langa could try to say anything else to him, Oliver, his father, called out to him.

Langa forcefully tore his gaze away from their hands to look at his father, stunned at the sudden overwhelming input of color. The big campfire no longer looked like a greyish flickering pile, but it almost felt alive, the fire softly coloring everything in a warm tone he would later know was called orange. He slowly put his gloves back on.

“Happy New Year little fella!” He was lifted by the strong arms of his father. It took a minute for him to understand what he had said and then smiled. “Happy New Year!”, his voice was high, as he still needed to comprehend and understand what had happened.  
He suddenly remembered the boy and struggled in his fathers’ hold to be put down. Once he had the crunchy snow back under his feet, he looked around.

The boy was no longer next to them, where was he? Panic rose in his chest. The continuing explosions in the sky, the new colorful world, the chattering around him all overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what was going on – maybe the other boy knew. What did he look like?  
Langa couldn’t remember. All he remembered of that moment were the fireworks in the eyes of the stranger – not even noticing their real color. It could be any of the children at the party.

Oliver noticed his son’s struggle. He smiled and crouched down to be on eye level with Langa. “Do you want to see your Mom and wish her a Happy New Year?”  
He tried to distract him. He didn’t know why his son was so restless suddenly, but he figured it was because it was way past his bedtime and because of the loud noises.

The small boy nodded slowly, his eyes still searching the crowd. Oliver nudged his shoulder lightly in the direction his mom waited.

Mrs. Hasegawa was a petit Japanese Woman. When people found out Oliver was her husband and Soulmate, they acted surprised. But it was not too far-fetched – both enjoyed similar things, both had a passion for helping people and both had the same approach on relationships: communication and compromise.

Langa learned about Soulmates early in life, as in the American and Canadian culture they were highly romanticized. Tons of novels, movies and music revolved around the topic of the fated significant other in your future life. His parents had a beautiful relationship – and he wished to have a similar one in the future.

The thought that he met his soulmate occurred to him the next day at breakfast as he regarded the flowers in the vase that decorated the wooden table. He could see color.

Him. A five-year-old preschooler. Met his soulmate. What would his parents think? Would they be happy for him? Concerned? Upset? Soulmates were not something a five-year-old should deal with – it was an adult thing. Because of that, he kept quiet. His fear that his parents would be upset with him about something he had no control over was irrational, but what would them knowing change? They didn’t know the other boy. _He_ didn’t even know him.

The only things he knew were that he was Japanese. Langa wondered if fate would make them move to Japan so he could reunite with the boy. All the time, the songs and movies told the same story: in the end, however far Soulmates were separated, they would find each other without fail.

Langa didn’t eat breakfast that day, he just couldn’t – too occupied with his thoughts. He helped his parents to pack their bags – on the next day both had to go back to work – his mother was a nurse and his father a firefighter. He kept quiet as they loaded their baggage into the trunk of their car. It was the same color as the pale morning sky – the same color as his hair.

He didn’t need help to get into the car and on his child seat in the back and it didn’t take long for the Hasegawas’ to leave the campsite – they were efficient and quiet, not wanting to disturb any of the other tourists.

As his dad drove down the mountain road, Langa watched the nature pass by. The trees were covered in snow, the dark green pine needles only barely peeking through. The rest was surprisingly greyscale – not very different from the day they arrived. He looked around inside of the car, spotting new colors wherever he turned his gaze.

It was as intriguing as it was intimidating.

He wondered when he would meet him again, the one who gifted him color vision. He didn’t ask “if” – Fate would handle the “if”, it was only a matter of “when”. A tint of excitement fluttered in his chest. There was someone for him, and he looked forward to seeing him again.

But fate was unpredictable.

And sometimes it was cruel.

~ ~ ~

Over the following years, Langa tried to pick up some more Japanese from his mother, whilst also trying to blend in with his peers. Soulmates were a popular topic in every age group and he really did not like to talk to anyone about it. He acted like he couldn’t see colors, all his research about them had to be done in secret.

It was a conscious decision to keep his color-vision a secret from everyone. It was frowned upon if you could see color but weren’t with your Soulmate, that’s why tons of celebrities already experienced media backlash by ignoring their fated partner and marring other people instead. Langa really didn’t want to be put in any spotlight – be it by classmates who would pester him with questions or by his parents who would feel guilty about not noticing it sooner.

Because of that, Langa still wore the greyscale-colored clothing. He was sixteen, there were already some of his peers that had found their soulmate and it showed – they wore colored clothing and talked a lot about the other half of their soul.  
He often caught himself listening in on their conversations. He couldn’t deny his interest in how other people dealt with this topic.

His parents were the only Soulmate couple he saw on a regular basis. They were cute but also a little bit gross for Langas’ taste. Always together, smiling at each other and sometimes acting like teenagers freshly in love. Despite how cheesy they sometimes were with each other, Langa couldn’t help but feel a ting of jealousy when he watched whenever they cooked together or just sat on the couch and watched a movie.

He wanted this for himself. With his soulmate. Hopefully, he would meet him sooner than later – he didn’t want to spend the majority of his life alone, waiting for fate to make its move.

As he had grown older, he was also confronted with the darker sides of Soulmate-ship. When your Soulmate died, you would only be an empty shell of yourself – or so it was conveyed by the media. Most didn’t outlive their partners long. He was still young, as were his parents – death wasn’t a thing he thought about on a regular basis, and yet, when it came to Soulmates, he began to fear death.

Yet he still wanted to meet the boy from New Year’s Eve again.

Everyday after school he worked in a café to earn some money – with the goal to one day be able to afford a vacation to Japan. Where he would have to go, he didn’t know, but one could hope, couldn’t they? It was a bad thing to try to force fate, but he couldn’t help it. He missed his other half, wondered how they would look like now, eleven years later.

It was a Saturday in spring when his view on the subject soulmates changed.  
Langa sat in the living room on a dark green couch, slouched over a book. His mother was still at work, as was his father. The house was at located in a suburban region, next to forests and lakes. A beautiful small town and a cozy house for a small family.

The TV was on, a background noise as Langa turned a page of the book. He read the dramatic love-story of the Soulmates Achilles and Patroclus. A tragic work but in its painfulness, it was beautiful – captivating. The story fascinated him when he first heard about it. Soulmates that lived and fought together and died not long apart.

His attention shifted from the book to the TV when the news report came on. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Normally, he wasn’t very invested in the news, but the flickering he noticed whilst reading grabbed his attention.  
Footage of a huge forest fire filled the screen. A female voice reported on the plight of the situation. Two Firefighters were trapped in the forest who had tried to extinguish the fire before it became too big.

Langa shut the book and grabbed his phone. He dialed his mother’s number – the first he could think of even though he knew she wouldn’t pick up – she was working. “Please let him be okay- “, he didn’t know who he begged, probably fate. He never had been religious but seeing the orange inferno on the TV screen and knowing Oliver most likely was on the site made him hope for a greater deity that would be able protect his dad.

He couldn’t do anything. Nothing. He stared helplessly, sitting on the edge of the couch. His thoughts were numb, he didn’t know how to feel. How to comprehend his worry, how to form it into words. His mother wasn’t here – no one was. He stared at the red and orange colors in his TV.

~ ~ ~

On a windy Friday afternoon, he stood next to his mother in a church. A black casket sat at the stairs to the altar, the voice of a priest echoed through the big, cold hall. The rows were filled with people – family, friends, and acquaintances of Oliver Hasegawa.

He died a hero – so they said. Saving the other firefighter from a falling burning branch only to get buried underneath instead. Langa didn’t care. What did it matter if he died a hero when he still died? His dads’ loss carved deep into him. He wasn’t just a father to him – he was his role-model, the one who taught him snowboarding, the one he talked to when he sought advice for anything. The one who made his mother laugh so much that she would not be able to talk. He had been an important person in his life – he didn’t know how to just… continue. Without him.

His mother was a shadow of herself. Her long hair a little bit greasy, hid under a black hat. Her eyes were red as were her cheeks. She didn’t look at Langa because his eyes were so similar to Oliver’s. She couldn’t bare the sight of them – afraid of how her heavy heart would handle it.  
Langa tried to help her. He talked to their relatives, kept them at bay and helped to organize the funeral.

An hour that felt like a blink of an eye passed, and they followed the men carrying the casket outside. The wind blew into Langas’ face, he could feel its cold against the wet traces of tears on his cheeks. He didn’t bother to wipe them away and he was not ashamed of them.  
The gravestone was beautifully carved, excellent craftsmanship together with white granite would be the remainder of his father to the rest of the world.

But the memories he held within his heart could not be carved into stone nor captured in the many pictures they had taken together over the last years.  
Slowly he placed a hand on his mothers’ shoulder, a silent gesture. He would stay, be there for her, even though he knew he could never replace his dad, her Soulmate. No one could.

When the funeral was finally over, they found themselves hugging on the couch, his mother crying in his arms. He would cry to, but he didn’t have anymore tears left. The day left him drained of everything he still had. It felt like an end – like they should be over the loss of Oliver, but it still was fresh on their minds. The funeral didn’t give them closure, it only made them sink deeper into mourning.

As he held his mother, Langa watched how the wind moved the trees in front of the window. Almost calming. He needed to be strong, to keep the family together. He couldn’t let his mother fall too deep into despair like it was so common with other people when one half of their soul died and left them behind.

The loss of his father changed Langa’s view on Soulmates drastically. He no longer wished to meet his. Maybe his mother would be able to return one day to her old self if it wouldn’t be for Soulmates to exist.

Maybe his father would still be alive if Soulmates didn’t exist.

At the end of summer, they moved to Japan, Okinawa. The town where his mother grew up in. Langa wasn’t opposed to the idea – he hoped his mother would be able to work again, live again – in a new environment without the constant memories on his dad.

The thoughts about his own Soulmate came relatively late. Once he settled in, decorated his new room a little bit and looked at new job offers to help the family financially, it occurred to him that he was in Japan. Where he believed his Soulmate lived.

And he wondered bitterly if fate had made its move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sidenote: Langas' POV will be written in american english, whilst Rekis' is in british english. (Just for the difference and because I can  
>  (◡ ω ◡) )
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it. I promise this is as angsty as it gets (at least i haven't planned anything more angstier than that yet)


	3. The Colour of Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello,  
> A new episode has dropped, but it's recap, so I am here to bring some content-  
> jk i love sk8 and every episode. (but the beach episode is my favourite)  
> have fun reading!
> 
> ps:   
> this is the longest chapter thus far..

Colour-vision enriched his life like nothing else could up until that point. The day after New Years’ Reki told his parents – and almost immediately they started to question him. It was just too unusual for a child to gain colour-vision, especially when they didn’t even know the name of their Soulmate.

Reki begged his parents to help him look for the boy he had made a pinkie-promise with. He had been at the party, so he had to be somewhere around.  
But the searching was useless – they didn’t find him. Reki still was enthusiastic, as he was sure he would meet him again eventually. Up until then, he would relish in his newly colourful life.

His Soulmate became content of his daydreams, his everyday thoughts whenever school got too boring and every time the topic came up in conversation. For everyone who had the gift of colour-vision it was obvious that Reki had found his Soulmate. His school uniform was the same as his peers’, but it was the accessories that made him stand out. He still wore a headband, but now it was in a dark blueish colour, as well as a red wristband he got from his father before he disappeared overseas.

At first, Reki didn’t really care about his father walking out on them as soon as his younger siblings were born. He realized it later – when his mother would work until late at night and he had to take care of his siblings every afternoon. As he got older, he started to help his mother with the burden to raise four children on her own.

Combining his passion – skateboarding – with money making was easy. At 14 he started to make boards. Colourful ones, like his clients requested. His first few were messy, but he got better at making them as time went on. The only colour he never used in his creations was blue. It was reserved solely for his other half. He remembered the blue ocean eyes vividly. Every New Years’ he thought about them – imagined how the boys’ face had changed over the last years, how he would look like.  
Probably handsome.

Because of his messy sleep-schedule, he was working on a new prototype skateboard in the early hours of a Monday morning. Of course, he had to go to school that day but Reki just wanted to quickly finish this. It would only take ten more minutes; He was sure about that.

Unsurprisingly it took him more than ten minutes in the end. He grabbed his bento from the counter whilst he struggled to change into his school uniform in a rush. “See you!”, he yelled into the house. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he left and jumped on his board. The way to school took 15 minutes by foot, with skating it was a lot faster. But he knew that even if he skated as reckless and as fast as he could, he would still be late.

As Reki arrived in the school, lesson already had started. He held his board under his arm and made his way to the classroom. He took a deep breath and tried to listen on the door if the teacher was talking already. He heard a voice he didn’t recognize and figured that now was a good time to enter.

  
“...from Canada.”, he heard before everyone looked at him. The words were spoken by a teenager who stood in front of the classroom. Reki hadn’t seen him before, but he wore the school uniform, so he figured the stranger was a new student in his class.  
“How kind of you to finally show up, Kyan.” Reki immediately looked at his teacher and stopped himself from taking a step back. The woman could be intimidating if she wanted to, he gave her that. “I’m sorry for being late”, he respectfully said and made his way to the back, to the last seat at the windows.

“Kyan, this is Langa Hasegawa, your new classmate. You will show him around after lessons.”, his teachers voice sounded final, and he repressed a sigh. He had wanted to continue working on his board, not show some new kid around. At least it wasn’t detention. The new kid, Langa – his brain helpfully added – bowed to the teacher and then made his way to the back of the class. Reki quickly looked around, noticing the only empty seat was next to his.

His eyes then followed Langa, he looked… kinda cool. Light blue hair and pretty ocean blue eyes, pale skin. Reki stared. The stranger looked familiar but Reki was sure he has never met him before – he would never forget such a face. Where was he from? He tried to remember what the boy had said when Reki had entered the classroom but with all the attention on him and his teachers disappointing voice he had totally forgot.

Well, he could just ask him, but first he wanted to introduce himself. Smiling he leaned over. “Hi, I’m Reki”, he whispered at the other who then turned to face him. “I thought your name was Kyan.” Reki stared at him. “Yea… that’s my surname. But you can call me Reki.” He could see the moment Langa realized what he meant. His eyes widened a bit before he averted them, he rubbed his neck. “Oh. I am Langa.”- “I know”, Reki grinned and wanted to continue their conversation, but the teacher cleared her throat and looked at them judgingly, so he leant back to his own seat.

~ ~ ~

Finally, school was over. Reki waited for Langa, who apparently needed an eternity to pack everything into his bag. “You don’t have to show me around you know”, Langa said. “I bet you have more important things to do.” Reki shrugged. “I wanted to work on my new board, but I also don’t want you to get lost around here, because I will get blamed for it.”  
“Board? Like snowboard?” Langa seemed to be excited and Reki almost felt bad to correct him. “More like skateboard. Hey, do you want to skate?” suddenly he was excited. Maybe Langa finally was someone he could share his hobby with. His other classmates never wanted to skate with him.

The only people he skated with he knew from S, an illegal skating track, and they were all… weird in their own way. Cool, but weird. Langa was _just_ cool and before the other answered, Reki already thought about all the things and people he could introduce to Langa. “I don’t know how to skate; I just know how to snowboard.” “That won’t be a problem! I will teach you!” Reki grabbed Langas’ arm and dragged him through the halls to their lockers where he had to let go so that they could change their shoes.

Outside Reki brought them to a skatepark that wasn’t too far away. “First you need to learn how to stand on the board.” He dropped his board to the ground and began to explain how Langa had to stand, but it quickly became obvious Langa really didn’t have any idea how to balance himself. “This is not made to be stand on!” he complained as he struggled to get his other feet of the ground and on the board.

Reki was amused and optimistic. He was sure Langa would be a natural – he had experience with snowboarding, he just had to adjust to the differences. And who didn’t want to teach a novice about the things one was passionate about? When Langa managed to finally stand on the board, Reki urged him to skate a few meters but it turned out to be more difficult than he firstly had imagined. Langa fell hardly on his back and Reki could tell he started to be frustrated.

He stopped his board that Langa fell off from, turned it, and skated towards him. Langa still laid on the ground, blue eyes to the sky. Reki jumped right over him to grab his attention. “You will see, it gets easier.” Reki grinned as he landed the board and came to a halt to help a perplexed looking Langa back on his feet. “I will give you one of my boards tomorrow and we can practice some more, if you want.” Langa returned the smile. “I would like that”, he said.

Reki remembered that he still only knew the others’ name and nothing else about him.

“Where do you even live? I don’t want you to miss your train or something.”  
Langa shook his head. “Not far from here. I live with my mother a few minutes away.”  
Reki nodded slowly. “And where are you from? Europe? You don’t look like you’re from Japan, but you almost have no accent…” he was curious about Langa. He looked like a foreigner, but his Japanese was good, if still a bit rusty. But the more he talked with him, the more Langa seemed to get comfortable with his Japanese. “We moved from Canada. My mother grew up here.”

Reki tilted his head, watching Langa intensely. He didn’t know if his Soulmate was Canadian. It had been a camp site for tourists – a lot of people from different countries had been there and Reki had been far too young to remember the accent his Soulmate had spoken in. Especially when he didn’t really remember what he even had said to him. “Did you meet your Soulmate yet?” he decided to ask, taking his chance. It was unrealistic but asking never hurt anyone – at least that’s what Reki had thought.

When Langas mood visibly fell, Reki knew he had made a mistake. “I really don’t want to talk about Soulmates”, and wow, wasn’t that a good first impression? He tackled a topic the other didn’t want anything to do with. That was just typical of him. Langa seemed to notice his struggling with words. “We moved because my dad died. My mom and him were soulmates. It took a toll on her.”

His reaction made more sense now, but Reki wished he hadn’t brought up the topic in the first place. He also didn’t have a father in the picture, but it was different than Langas situation. “I’m sorry”, he said. “You don’t have to be.” Langa smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I am used to it – people being obsessed with Soulmates and all. I can’t really avoid it. So, it’s fine.”  
Reki sighed quietly. He desperately wanted to brighten the mood, but in this moment his alarm rang, and both were startled by it.

“Damn I have to go to work.” Reki muttered as he pulled out his phone to silence it. “You work?” Langa asked. “Yea, at the local skateboard-shop… I can sell my boards there and help out with deliveries.” Reki explained and watched Langa becoming more and more interested as he spoke. “Can I work there too? Can you ask the manager?”, Langa almost begged and Reki was a little bit taken aback. “Uhm… yea I can ask. Or you ask Oka yourself, it’s not far from here.”

That seemed to finally tilt the mood back to their friendly conversation they had started with. “Let’s go!”, his hand was grabbed by Langa who pulled him eagerly off his skateboard that he barely managed to grab before they left.

Reki led them to DOPE SKETCH, a small skate shop, managed by Shokichi Oka. Oka was a skateboarder himself, but unlike Reki he didn’t participate in S. He had, when he was younger, but now S was just a place for him to make money by selling his boards. They stepped into the shop and were greeted by a, for Reki, familiar sight of Oka at the counter, gently petting the fur of his fox-companion.

“Time you showed up, Reki”, the middle-aged man said, looking at the two students in the entrance. “Who’s your new friend?” Reki casually flung an arm over Langas shoulder. “This is Langa.” The boy in question nodded and then walked up to the counter. He bowed down. “Can I please work here? Most places don’t hire minors but since Reki works here  
I thought- “, he was interrupted by a yelp from Reki who had tried to pet Okas’ fox. It hissed at him. Oka rubbed his chin. “I don’t know if I need another pair of hands to manage his shop.” Reki looked at Langa, the sad look in his eye apparent.

“He can help me with a delivery later”, Reki suggested. Langa nodded eagerly. “I have a scooter, we will be faster with that than by skateboard, won’t we?” Reki grinned. “Yea, and you will see S! This will be great. Thanks Oka!” He grabbed Langa by the wrist and dragged him out of the shop. Oka didn’t really have a chance to reply to any of them, but it wasn’t like they were wrong – a scooter was faster than a skateboard.

Reki let go of Langas’ hand once they were a few meters down the street. “My workshop where I craft all my boards and stuff is at home in a shed. Do you want to see it or meet me at Okas’ later?” he asked and looked at Langa who tilted his head a little bit, a few blue strands fell in his face. “I think I will meet you later”, he finally answered. Reki nodded. “Then… see you at 11!”  
With a wave they parted ways.

~ ~ ~

Crafting was easy for Reki that day. He was motivated to show his new friend what skills he had, even if the other most likely would not be able to see the pretty coloured pattern on the board. But he was sure it would look good even in greyscale. Whilst he was working the wood, he thought about Langa and the afternoon they spent together.

He was impressed by him. As far as he knew, Langas’ dad has died not too long ago, and it could not be taken for granted that someone who went through the same stuff as Langa was as open about it as he had been. Reki hoped skating would cheer him up, give him something to work on and to be invested in – something to distract him.

Skating had helped him in the past, and he hoped it would help Langa too. Whenever he felt down – be it because he had a fight with his mum or with his sisters or because he got a bad grade in school – he skated. He rarely had a destination, often he just skated listening to some music. After it he felt better most of the time.

And if skating didn’t work, watching skate-videos or crafting managed to keep his mind occupied. He wondered if Langa had any other hobbies besides snowboarding. He had to talk to him more about stuff like that. But at the same time, he was worried Langa would walk out on him. Because Reki would be too annoying with all the skating, or just because he could not forgive his mention of Soulmates. It wouldn’t be the first time someone left him – it seemed to be a recurring theme in his life.

First it had been his father. Reki remembered when his mother had sat crying at the kitchen table when he’d returned late from skating and at first he’d feared it was because of him, because he had made a mistake, but she hadn’t even noticed him when he had returned. Her cries were etched into his mind. It was something he didn’t like to remember but couldn’t help whenever he thought about his father. What he remembered about him the most was how much he had hurt his mum, and he would never forgive him for that.

It was one thing to die and leave your Soulmate behind, but to walk out on them was just cruel. But Rekis mum managed the divorce surprisingly well. She had children to raise who relied on her, and she had made it work.

The second was his first best friend – the one who had introduced him to skating in preschool. Reki sanded the wood and his gaze fell to the sky-blue cruiser in the corner of the workshop. It had been his first gift from a friend and the first skateboard he ever owned. To be fair, his friend didn’t really have a choice. He had to quit skating because he got injured badly in elementary, but Reki had hoped he could still be friends with him. He didn’t foresee them losing contact completely.

He prayed Langa would be different.

After the sanding he put the colours on the table and got his brushes. The client wanted something crazy plus the name of his girlfriend on the board. It was doable, and whenever a client wanted something “crazy” Reki had an excuse to use as much colours as he liked in beautiful combinations. It was the second-best part of board-crafting, right after standing on the finished product and doing the first ollie in the skateboards’ life.

It took the remaining afternoon and the evening to finish the board – as the paint had to dry for some time before he could finish it up and he had gotten interrupted because he had to eat dinner with his family. When he zipped up the black bag in which he would carry the board it was almost 11 PM. That’s why he had to rush to be on time at the skate shop. Langa was not there yet, so he sat the bag at the wall and cleaned the shop a bit while he waited.  
Right on time he heard the jingle of the shops’ doorbell. He grabbed the bag and opened the door.

“Langa! You made it! Let’s go!”, he greeted Langa with excitement in his voice. “Put this on first.”, and Reki was tossed a helmet he caught clumsily. He didn’t think he would need it, but he also didn’t want to start an argument about it. That’s why he put on the helmet, over his headband, and sat behind Langa on the grey motor scooter.

They were quite fast and Reki hat to raise his voice to tell Langa the directions to the abandoned mine where S would take place. “What even is ‘S’?”, he heard Langa asking against the wind. “Illegal skating race where everything is allowed. It’s next level skating – in a beef with another skater both have to agree to set something of equal value at stake.” Langa didn’t answer because he had to focus on the road and traffic – but he would see for himself once they would arrive.

They did arrive, just a little bit too late. His client was pissed. Reki jogged through the crowd, the bag under his arm. Langa was close behind him and almost ran into him as Reki stopped, catching his breath. The man yelled at him for being late, but the beef hadn’t started yet so everything would be fine. Or so Reki had thought – as he opened the bag, his own battered skateboard was revealed. He had yet to fix it from a beef a few days ago.

He stared at his board, then looked up. This dude looked pissed. “Who do you think I am?! This is not the bord I ordered. I can’t beef with this!” His voice cracked a bit as he was yelling and Reki ducked his head a little. “I can still get the other board- “, he tried to reason, but was interrupted. “Then it will be too late!”  
Well, he could see that. “You will skate my beef.” Reki stared at him, why did he always end up in such situations? “Who are you even beefing against?”, he asked and turned to the other skater. It was Shadow, a reckless skater who he lost to in his last beef. Reki gulped as Shadow grinned at him with malice in his eyes. He really didn’t want to go up against him again and risk getting more than his board broken.

“Is that tape?” “What’s that rookie doing?” “Oh my gosh what the hell- “, voices grew loud around him and he turned around, only to see Langa sitting on the ground _taping his feet to Rekis’ almost broken skateboard_.

“Langa. What are you doing?”, he asked, forcing himself to stay calm. “I will skate against him.” Langas’ voice was calm, unimpressed. It sent a shiver down Rekis’ spine. How could he not be scared when he planned on facing Shadow? “You can’t do that! You just started to learn how to stand on the board, you don’t even know anything else!”, he wanted to be the voice of reason, but Langa tested the tape as if Reki wasn’t there.

“There is no use now, he is on a board, so he has to skate”, Cherry Blossom, the AI-Skater, said as he helped Langa up. Reki looked at Cherry, he had respect for the man. He was one of S’ founders, and his recitation of the rule was not wrong. Langa was on a board, he had to skate. He grabbed Langa by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Be careful. Don’t hurt yourself, you hear me? It’s better to lose a beef than to lose an arm.”

Reki was worried, it was extremely dangerous to fix ones’ feet on a board. He would hurt himself. Oh god. And it would be Rekis fault. He didn’t pay attention on what were the bets, there was white noise in his head. A ton of “what-ifs” started to occupy his mind and the anxiety started to make his chest feel tight.

The starting signal interrupted his thoughts, Shadow was gone in a blink of an eye, whilst Langa just… stood there. Reki watched him. “Come on… please, you can to it”, he quietly cheered for his newfound friend, and watched with a mixture of amusement and horror as Langa crouched down and pushed himself forward with his hands in a painfully slow speed.

But once he had gained some speed and the track tilted more downwards, Rekis eyes were transfixed on the screen.

Langa adapted his snowboarding to skating in ways he never would have thought were possible. Reki made his way to the construction hall and watched him fly almost weightlessly in the air – the picture overlapping with a memory from 12 years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments on the other chapters - I get so happy reading them <3

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: thank you for reading this far!  
> on second note: all chapters are outlined and I will try to post them asap  
> \- in the meantime, let me know what you think :D
> 
> \- Shei


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